Winds of Change
by LonelyIguana
Summary: Orphan Christiana is the leader of 19 other orphan children in muggle England, without food, shelter, or hope. But when a wizard family gets wind that these abandoned children are victims of Voldemort, the children are saved. HPxOC


"Mummy!" The scream tore at Christiana Erloser's smoke-scoured throat. She watched in horror as the ship St. Elend, carrying her family and hundreds of others, burned brightly with flame against the smoke-filled night sky.

"Take care _mein leibling_, get to England. Find your brother." Mrs. Erloser choked against the thick black smoke. Her hand extended towards her daughter, floating away to safety in the lifeboat, along with other children.

"No, mama, jump, get away from there! Don't leave me!"

"_Nein_." Mr. Erloser shook his head sadly, "Get away from here. Go. GO!"

Christiana leapt forward against the hard sides of the boat. "No, please!" she begged, stretching out her arms.

"We'll always love you. Take care and find your brother. He'll take care of you." Tears raced unchecked down her mother's cheeks. An oil barrel exploded behind them, sending shards of glass and wood flying.

"Here take this to remember us, and to help find your brother!" said her mother. She tossed a small object across the inky black water. Christiana caught it and held it tightly to her chest. The gas tank exploded before she got another glimpse of her parents, ripping apart what was left of the burning boat. Her heart broke she watched the boat sink into the murky depths.

"_Fraulein_ Erloser, what do we do?" Christiana looked around at the surrounding children. Being 13, she was the oldest among them. They all turned toward her with their tear stained faces and scared eyes. She looked at the object clutched in her hand and realized it was a heart-shaped locket. She looked out at the deceivingly calm sea, then farther out, at the far off shore. The boat was moving faster and faster, caught in an invisible current toward land. She sighed as salty seawater flecked at her already tear streaked face. "We'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

Christiana spit sand out of her parched mouth, and pushed herself upright onto the grey, foggy beach. Children spread out all around her, sniffling in their cold, cheerless sleep. Christiana left.

She walked down the beach, trailing a stick behind her to mark her path. The sun was creeping up over the flat horizon, lighting up the leering green skull that hung, waning, over her parents' watery grave, miles off the cost. She could see the snake writhing in the sky very clearly from her viewpoint. The mark seemed to be following her.

Christiana screamed. To her it seemed the only thing she could do. The weight of last night fell heavily upon her, and her anger thrashed wickedly in her gut. Slamming her fist in the sand, she screamed again. Last night's happenings unfolded repeatedly before her eyes, replaying like a broken record.

The explosion, the screaming, the smell of burning flesh, the cackle as he shot the dark mark into the sky. The muggle explosives filling the cargo hold made quick work of the old boat. Parents swept their children into a lifeboat before half of them knew what was happening. But Christiana knew, and she found herself envying the muggles their naïveté. She never thought that she would find herself loathing someone as much as she loathed that Death Eater. Even Voldemort came in second to that red-haired, blue-eyed murderer. She could not believe she had once thought him cute. Why had not she noticed his cruel, empty eyes, or they way his face was always coldly expressionless?

Had he enjoyed the looks of terror and hurt of his victims, the smell of death in the air? Even now, Christiana could not forget that sickening odor; it had so permeated the air.

"Fraulein! Fraulein, where are you?" tiny voices called from the far end of the beach.

"I am here!" Christiana yelled back, running hard against the shifting sand. She could see the children stirring in the distance. She caught up to them and was saddened to see such desperate looks on such young faces. "I am here," she said again, trying to smile. "Don't be afraid."

A little boy who looked to be around three ran to her and c lung to her pants leg, crying. Christiana recognized the little boy to be the son of a poor muggle family she had seen board the ship. Anger welled up inside her again. "It is okay, _mien libeling_, please don't cry," she tried to reassure him. It was so hard not to cry her self.

Looking around, Christiana realized how few children had actually escaped death. Chubby Agnethe Schreiber and tan Konrad Holz were the only wizard children near Christiana's age. Actually, Agnethe was older, but even she was turning to Christiana for guidance. "We need to leave this beach," she told them solemnly, understanding this would be harder than it should be; even she felt a tug of guilt at leaving her parents resting place. She knew they had to leave to survive, but part of her mind never wanted to leave this place, ever.

Children sat on the ground and cried, angry and scared, covered in grey sand. Christiana picked up the boy at her feet. She turned to Agnethe. "The older children need to carry the younger ones," she told her. "We have to leave now if we want to survive."

Agnethe understood. They wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the death eater. Who knew what exactly Voldemort's plan had been. He might decide to make sport of them, and nothing could stop him if he did.

Any child Christiana deemed fit enough to carry a child she immediately paired with a baby. Christiana only found three kids she said should not carry or be carried, and they were put in charge of keeping everyone insight. "I don't want to loose a single kid, okay?" she had said to the pale wizard boy, Charlie. "I want you to make sure of that."

Charlie nodded his head and put on a brave face. Christiana wanted to cry; Charlie had lost a younger sister and his older brother's family last night.

Soon Christiana had everyone lined up, holding a rope of sorts to connect them. They made the rope by tying together strips of fabric from their clothes; the rope was not very sturdy, but it was very long, so they tied it around the wrists so that no one got lost.

"Agnethe, I need you and Konrad to lead the way. I don't know how to tell east from north, south, or west, but that's the direction we need to go. We need to find people," she lowered her voice, "hopefully _wizard_ people."

Agnethe nodded, looking grim. "I don't know how to tell east either, but I assume you're taking us through the woods."

Christiana nodded grimly. Konrad walked up to them carrying a little girl on his hip. "What is the plan?" the English boy asked in fluent German.

"Konrad, we need to go east, inland, and I think our best bet is through tho–,"

"Hang on, I have a compass." Konrad shuffled in his pocket, before pulling out a wooden circular device covered with sand. He flicked its plastic cover, and the arrow inside its glass cover spun a little before settling decidedly into the trees. "This tells direction," he explained, holding it out, "The arrow points north. So it that's north," he jerked his finger toward the trees, "Then that," he pointed down the beach, "is east."

Agnethe and Christiana looked dubious. "Where'd you get that muggle thing," Agnethe asked scornfully, looking down her nose at it.

"My dad," Konrad said defensively; his dad was a muggle born. Agnethe came from an old German wizarding family, and though not the most stuffy purebloods, were still disdainful of muggle anything.

Christiana, sensing the fight before it started, stood between them. "We are not going to argue about it. If Konrad's compass thing says it's east, then it's the only lead we have, and we are going to follow it." She glared at both of them, and then said, louder so the other children could hear, "We're going to get within the cover of the forest, and make our way east. He," she jabbed her thumb at Konrad, "has a compass that tells direction, and it says that east is that way," she pointed down the beach. "We are going to follow the coast until Konrad says different. Everyone line up, young ones in the middle, kids close to my age on the ends. Konrad and Agnethe'll lead us, and I will follow up behind. Are there any questions?" Even Christiana was amazed at her ability to take charge.

"Where are we going?" "What are we going to eat?" "I want Mummy!" and "I'm _tired_," were some of the remarks that erupted in response. Christiana sighed. To her astonishment, Konrad took the stand. "Alright, everyone just needs to _hush_. Christiana is in charge, and we do what she says. I understand why the babies are upset, but some of you older kids are whining louder than any of them are. So _buck up_."

The crying lowered to a minimum, and Christiana was very pleased to see the children start lining up. Konrad grinned sheepishly. "I just can't stand _whining_."

The line moved slowly into the trees. Christiana held the little boy close to her body and marched in very last. She took one more glance at the death mark, and marveled at the muggle children's inability to see it. It was so strange, as if they had just chosen not to. A tear ran unchecked down her sooty cheek, and she gripped the necklace around her neck. _"_I love you," she said, and did not turn around again.

0.0.0.0

The line was progressing nicely. Christiana could just see Konrad's stiff black head of hair above all the children riding on each other's backs. Fat Agnethe had disappeared completely, except for her two blond buns sticking up like mouse ears above the crowd. Christiana was working her mind furiously to think of something to do about food. Her stomach was gurgling as a painful reminder that she had not eaten since dinnertime yesterday. She thought she saw berries in the foliage around her, but she could not be sure that they were safe to eat. She wished she had her dad with her; he had been a great outdoorsman. She tried to recall some of the things he told her about edible plants, but every time she pictured his face, all she could see was the smoke billowing behind him and the tears trickling down his lined face. Agnethe's father died before she was able to talk, and her mother was back in Germany. Her mother's friend Nikolaus died last night in the first explosion. Konrad's parents Christiana did not know much about; they were English, and had sent Konrad to Germany two years ago for safety reasons. Konrad had lost his nanny, Fraulein Mehler, in last night's explosion. Neither of them had suffered the blow that Christiana had.

The little boy fell asleep against Christiana shoulder. His snores tickled, Christiana's collar, and she remembered the necklace around her neck. Careful not to wake the boy – whom Christiana had taken to calling Männlein – she undid the clasp of the necklace and held it in her hand. She could not open the locket with one hand, so she carefully slid her other hand around the boy's waist and undid it. Inside was a picture of Christiana's family as it had once been: her father standing over her mother, her brother standing beneath her father, and her, right in the middle, sitting on her mother's lap. Christiana sighed. Her brother was 11 in this picture; one year before he went to England for schooling and never came back. Christiana was four. This picture was the only reminder she had of him; she had no idea how she could ever find him.

Christiana buried herself so deep in these thoughts that she failed to notice the line had stopped moving. She crashed into the kid in front of her, a chubby brunette boy who nearly choked himself coughing as he got up from the dirty forest floor.

"Sorry, sorry," Christiana repeated, helping him up. Männlein started crying and pulled at Christiana's hair as she tried to resituate him on her hip. "Shh, shh, Männlein, it's okay. I am so sorry," she told the boy in front of her. Luckily, he was not carrying a baby.

"It's okay, Fraulein," he said, brushing himself off.

"What's the hold up?" Christiana called to Konrad, coddling Männlein.

"There's a cliff!" Konrad yelled back, a tremor in his voice.

Christiana made her way to the front of the line, creating a circle of children by bringing the end of their rope up to the front. The kids all looked up at them expectantly. Christiana took one look at the sheer face of the cliff and fervently wished they would not look at her as if she had all the answers. What if Konrad or Agnethe had fallen over the cliff? The flora of the forest certainly disguised the cliff edge well.

"What does your compass say?" Christiana asked, looking over the edge and motioning for everyone to back up.

"We're still headed east, but we can't exactly walk out over this gorge, can we?"

"A fat lot of good your compass is doing," Agnethe said irritably.

"It tells direction!" Konrad erupted. "East is _that_ way. It's not a map! How was it supposed to tell us there was a gorge here? You're blaming a cow for not having kittens, for goodness sakes!"

"Shut up, both of you. We just have to go around the gorge."

Agnethe turned purple in the face and Konrad's neck flushed, but they stopped arguing. "Back up a bit and follow the gorge around until we get to the other side. It's a good thing we found this cliff before it found us, if you know what I mean. I don't need our guides arguing."

"Right," they said in unison, looking at Christiana apologetically.

"We need to find somewhere to sleep, and soon. Hopefully we'll find a town before it gets dark." Christiana looked around the dank forest. "I don't relish sleeping out here."

The line was on the move again, but much more restlessly. Hungry groans came from every child, and Männlein began to cry.

The line stopped once, when a girl came upon a dead rabbit in the underbrush. As the line began to move again, Christiana thought grimly that the rabbit might well be their next meal.

Hours passed. Children became faint, and Christiana panted under the weight of her struggling charge. When Christiana finally thought she had come to the end of her tether, the forest ended. Christiana estimated they had traveled about 9 miles from their starting point. They must be pretty far inland by now. The forest opened into a wide wheat field. The children, hungry though they were, rejoiced heartily at the sight of a smoke-spewing chimney above the tall grass.

Christiana ran for the chimney. She was too nervous to give commands, and too excited to walk in a dignified manner. She just let out and ran. When she reached the chimney, however, she stopped dead in her tracks, for the chimney had been just that: a chimney. A trickle of water ran past the stone chimney. Christiana knelt down next to it and sipped the cool, clear water.

As the other children caught up with her, they all fell to their knees beside the spring and cried.

"What are we going to do now?" Konrad asked, looking thoroughly disheartened.

"We'll make camp here," Christiana said firmly. Männlein wandered up to her and held his arms up. She picked him up and set him firmly in Agnethe's arms.

"Don't lose him," she said, and then turned to the rest of the crying children. "We're going to stay here for the night. Agnethe is going to stay here with the kids. I need anyone seven and up to come with me. We need to find food." Before we become food, Christiana thought chillingly.


End file.
